Saying Goodbye
by Daisy Brambleburr
Summary: After Rosie's death Sam decides that it's time to leave for the Grey Havens to be with Frodo at last. Only before he goes, he has to say goodbye to some old friends. Concluded and revised
1. Chapter One, Memories

Author's Note: Before we begin, I would just like to say that I don't really like the first chapter of this fic (why does this always happen to me??). I've tweaked it and prodded it all I can but it still won't go right. But please don't run away yet! I truly feel that the fic improves as we go on, so give it a chance! If you spot anything amiss please let me know.  
  
There are nine chapters in total and I will upload one every two days. It's all written!  
  
Brownie points for anyone who can guess why Sam's pony is called William.  
  
Remember to review!  
  
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Saying Goodbye  
  
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Chapter One- Memories  
  
Sam felt old. He knew that he was old well enough, but this was the first time he had really felt his age. His face had become paler and less jolly of late, and the weariness that he felt almost daily was beginning to show. As he sat atop his sturdy pony, fondly named William, his back ached and his knees and elbows felt stiff.  
  
"I'm far too old for riding," he had muttered to himself as he mounted, wincing slightly as he shifted around in the saddle.  
  
These aches and pains did not bother him as much as they should done. He had something else to compare them to that was not a physical ailment, but a mental one. The feeling of sadness that had bored itself deep into his chest was the thing that pained him the most. Ever since he had lost his beloved Rose it had firmly rooted itself there and hadn't left him since. Even though he could forget it or ignore it for a few hours or a few days, it was always there and sooner or later it would come back. He could feel it now, aching dully as he thought of Rosie, her eyes shining bright and her face smiling even though she was growing old. Even when she had been ill she had managed a small smile for Sam whenever she woke and saw him sitting by her side, holding her hand tightly.  
  
After she had died he had learnt how it was to be lonely. Although he was often surrounded by people, his children and grandchildren, kindly friends and neighbors (for Sam and Rosie were well loved all over the Shire) there was nothing that could console him. 'It's amazing how you can be surrounded by people but still be lonely,' he had said to himself after yet another long day of visitors. No, nothing was binding him to Bag End anymore. He had nothing to stay for.  
  
A stray tear slid down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away with the back of his hand. He shouldn't be sad, not everything was lost. He was going to sail over the Sea.  
  
He had remembered what Frodo had said to him when he was lying alone in his bed the night after Rosie had died. He was wide-awake and unable to sleep and kept on recalling thoughts and memories, wanted or otherwise.  
  
He had first remembered their wedding day, how beautiful Rosie had looked and how happy he was. He smiled, in spite of himself, at the memory of Merry jumping up from out of the blue and catching Rosie's bouquet. He had given young Estella Bolger a sly kiss on the cheek, and she had blushed furiously. Sam remembered his children, and how it was when Bag End was full of childish laughter and games.  
  
Then he began to think of Frodo and the time when they had lived together at Bag End. Those had been some of the happiest times of his life. Elanor was born and she was healthy and beautiful. The Shire was blooming again and although Rosie was busy and often tired, nothing could wipe the happy look off her face when she looked upon the smiles of her baby girl.  
  
Sam's memories of Frodo came flooding back, and he felt how he had felt when the boat that held Frodo disappeared over the horizon. It was then he remembered what Frodo had said.  
  
"You were too a Ring Bearer, if only for a little while. Your time may come."  
  
And through his grief he felt hope. He knew that his time was close and began to subtly prepare for the day when he would leave.  
  
Now that day was here, and Sam felt hope in his heart again as he thought of Frodo. He would be seeing him again. His master, Mister Frodo. But there were things he had to do before he left for the Grey Havens. He had to say goodbye to some old friends.  
  
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	2. Chapter Two, The Road goes Ever on and o...

Authors Note: Thanks very much to my reviewers, (remember, you're always welcome!) Disclaimer: LotR is Tolkiens and not mine at all.  
  
Chapter Two- The Road Goes Ever On and On  
  
Sam rode through Bywater just as the morning sun was peeping over the green hills of the Shire. Wanting to leave quietly without any fuss, he had told nobody that he was going. He had not wanted a goodbye, and instead had left a (long and detailed) letter on the kitchen table of Bag End saying a personal farewell to each of his children. He had left Bag End to his eldest son, Frodo-lad, knowing that he could trust him to keep it well.  
  
Sam felt a lump in his throat as he thought of Bag End, and then he understood what the feelings of Frodo must have been when he left it all those years ago to go on his journey, thinking that he would never return. He was safe now, safe in the Undying Lands with Bilbo and Gandalf and the Elves. Sam hoped that he was happy and rested.  
  
He looked up, still deep in his thoughts, over the hills of the Shire. He knew that this would be one of the last times that he would see them, and although he knew he would miss them, no part of him wanted to stay. He knew that his place was with Frodo, to live happily for however much time he had left.  
  
Sam rode on, slowly but steadily, for most of the day. He only stopped to eat a few morsels that he had packed or to stretch out his stiff limbs. It had been some time since he had ridden a pony, but he preferred it to walking. It was a comfort to him on his lonely journey to have a companion.  
  
Sam affectionately clapped William on the neck, a small smile on his lips as he looked out over the hills.  
  
"Come on William lad," he muttered to the pony, thoughtfully stroking his mane. "We've a fair way to go before nightfall."  
  
He mounted (with the aid of a nearby tree stump) and they ambled on down the worn and dusty road. All was silent, save for the occasional bird song or creak of branches, and William's hooves rustled through the autumn leaves that had already begun to litter the ground.  
  
The Road goes ever on and on  
  
Down from the door where it began  
  
Sam smiled at his choice of words. One of Bilbo's old songs, wasn't it? And after all, the road did seem to go on and on sometimes. Right now it flowed on ahead of him through the fields, the Sun filtering through the leaves and making golden patches of light dance about the ground. Sam lifted his voice and sang again.  
  
Now far ahead the Road has gone,  
  
And I must follow, if I can,  
  
Pursuing it with eager feet,  
  
Until it joins some larger way  
  
Where many paths and errands meet.  
  
And whither then? I cannot say.  
  
Throughout the song Sam's voice grew stronger, and when his voice faded the longing to see Frodo and Bilbo and old Gandalf grew. He then felt a twinge of doubt in his stomach, and worried that they might not be there to greet him.  
  
"They call it the Undying Lands, but I suppose that's just for the Elves. Frodo and Mister Bilbo are no more immortal than I am. You shouldn't go getting your hopes up, Samwise Gamgee, that's what Rosie would say. But I cannot help it, and what is wrong with a little hope? I do not suppose I shall see Mister Bilbo again, but there's no reason Frodo shouldn't be there," Sam muttered to himself.  
  
Sam rode a good many miles before the day was spent, and he camped under an old oak tree, about three miles west of Frogmorton. He took his breakfast at an Inn in the village, his cloak cast over his face so that no one would recognise him. He then carried on down the road to Whitfurrows and onwards to the Brandywine Bridge. Exhausted, he slept like a log, huddled under many blankets beside the river.  
  
The next morning dawned and Sam was on his way again. He glanced into the Old Forest and wondered if Tom Bombadil was still living happily with Goldberry in their little house that Sam had spent two comfortable days in. He smiled fondly at the memory of their fair singing and rosy, smiling faces. He remembered as if it was yesterday their journey through the forest, and the time when Merry and Pippin had been trapped inside Old Man Willow and how Tom had been strolling past and saved their skins.  
  
By lunchtime, with typical hobbit timing, he had reached his destination. He drew William to a halt and laboriously clambered from his back, then rapped with his knuckles three times on the red front door of the hole at Crickhollow.  
  
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	3. Chapter Three, Visiting Crickhollow

Authors Note: This chapter gets a little more interesting. Thanks to all my nice reviewers, your support is much appreciated. Same disclaimer as always applies.  
  
Chapter Three- Visiting Crickhollow  
  
Sam was only kept waiting for a few seconds before the door was pulled open by a hobbit. Although this hobbit's hair was greyer and his face rather more lined, his twinkling eyes and mischievous smile were unmistakable.  
  
"Sam! We were not expecting you. Please, come in. It's wonderful to see you!" the hobbit exclaimed, breaking into a grin when his eyes set upon Sam's face. He embraced Sam like a brother and held open the door for him to pass into the hallway.  
  
"It is wonderful to see you, young Pippin." said Sam, for although Pippin was pushing ninety-two, the habit of many years ago had stuck. 'After all,' Sam had said many times, 'He is very much younger than I am.'  
  
Sam stood in the hall and removed his weather worn cloak and hood. He hung them on a hook and then turned to face Pippin, who was observing him with a slightly worried air.  
  
"Are you holding up all right Sam?" He asked in a softer and more serious tone of voice, "How has it been since Rosie..."  
  
Sam bowed his head. The mention of Rosie's name still hurt. He did not want to say anything, but then he made himself speak. Pippin was one of his oldest friends, and he should not keep anything from him. It was he and Merry who had ridden from Buckland as soon as they heard the news, and they had consoled Sam and helped him through his sadness, and made sure that he ate properly and kept himself well. He didn't know how he would have managed without them, for even though his children and relatives had been eager to help, none of them understood him like Merry and Pippin did.  
  
"It's been hard," he ventured finally, pulling himself with some effort from his thoughts.  
  
Pippin seemed to sense he did not want to say anymore, so instead clapped his hand onto Sam's shoulder and said, "You have arrived just in time for luncheon. There's somebody else here whom I daresay will be very pleased to see you."  
  
Pippin shepherded Sam into the kitchen, and sitting at the scrubbed wooden table was Merry Brandybuck, smoking a pipe with his feet on the table. When he saw Sam he got up as quickly as it is possible for someone of his age, and embraced him as Pippin had done.  
  
"Come and sit down," he said after he had greeted Sam. "We are just about to have something to eat." He then surveyed Sam with a critical eye. "You need to put on a bit of weight, old Sam. You're looking a bit pale too. Come and get some of this stew inside you."  
  
Merry poured some of the meaty stew from a large pot above the fire into bowls, and accompanied it with slabs of bread. Sam tried to join in the conversation as they ate, but his thoughts strayed to how hard it would be to say goodbye to these hobbits that he had known and loved as friends for such a long time.  
  
Merry and Pippin seemed to sense that Sam had something on his mind, so after they had finished eating they pushed back their chairs as if prompting Sam to begin.  
  
"There's no use hiding anything from us Sam, we've known you for too long. I can tell from your face that this is not just a casual social call," Merry said.  
  
"I am sorry," Sam said, sighing not in weariness but in sadness.  
  
"Come on Sam. You know you can tell us," Pippin encouraged.  
  
Sam took a breath. "I have decided to sail over the Sea. I'm going to visit Mister Frodo, and I do not mean to return."  
  
Merry and Pippin were silent for a time. They both nodded their heads slowly, letting the news sink in.  
  
"Well, I had guessed that you would go sooner or later," Pippin said finally, taking a draught from his pipe. "You miss Frodo so much; I can see that from your far away expression whenever his name is spoken."  
  
"You certainly do know me well, my good hobbits!" Sam said, laughing despite his sadness. "After Rosie died I think I knew that I was going to leave soon. I think I knew that I was going to go all along, if you get my meaning."  
  
"We understand," Merry said. "And I shall miss you an awful lot, but I think it is the best thing for you to do."  
  
"I too shall miss you, dear Samwise," Pippin said, smiling at Sam. "But I do hope that you will give Frodo all of our best wishes, and tell him that Merry and I think of him often."  
  
"I shall make sure of it." Sam answered.  
  
"What of Bag End?" Merry asked. "And your family?"  
  
"Don't worry, I have signed Bag End over to Frodo. It seems right that a Frodo will still own it, even if it's not the right one. It will help them all to remember him, I thought."  
  
"That's wonderful, Sam." Pippin said. "Even though he's not a Baggins I'm sure he'll keep it well and help everyone remember old Bilbo and Frodo."  
  
"That's just what I thought," Sam said, smiling as he remembered Frodo and all the other little Gamgees growing up in Bag End.  
  
There was a companionable silence as the three hobbits sat in the cosy kitchen, smoking pipes and drinking tea. Merry's words broke the silence as he looked up from his pipe.  
  
"When do you mean to leave for the Havens?"  
  
"Tomorrow, as soon as it is light," Sam answered.  
  
Merry thought for a moment, and then spoke again. "I speak for Pippin as well as myself when I say that we would very much like to accompany you."  
  
"That's right," Pippin agreed. "We mean to see you off."  
  
Sam considered their offer for a little while. He had wanted to slip off without any disturbance and to say goodbye to the two hobbits here, but the road to the Grey Havens looked very long and lonely without them.  
  
"Thank you kindly for your offer. I would be grateful for the company," Sam admitted at last.  
  
"Well that's settled," Pippin said, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet.  
  
"It looks like the Travellers are going on one last journey."  
  
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	4. Chapter Four, Leaving Buckland

Authors Note: I'd just like to respond to some reviews before I begin this chapter.  
  
Bill the Pony: Yeah, it was hard to write 'old' hobbits. I find it difficult to imagine too!  
  
Nihtfyr: Glad you like Tom!  
  
Xena: Yes, he's called Bill 'cus it's short for William. :D  
  
Thankyou to everyone else for your support.  
  
Chapter Four- Leaving Buckland  
  
The two hobbits made light work of preparing their baggage for the journey, and Pippin was sent to borrow two ponies from a nearby farm. When all preparations were made, the three hobbits spent a pleasant and relaxing evening around the fireplace with mugs of hot tea and some of Merry's best pipeweed that he had stored in his cellar. They talked well into the night, recalling memories of their journey, exchanging news and stories and reminiscing of when they were still children.  
  
Sam felt more light-hearted than he had in a long time. The talk and laughter of the evening made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, not to mention having his friends accompany him on his road to the Sea. When Sam began to feel weary, Merry showed him to a little bedroom off the hallway, and he took delight in sinking into a soft mattress, which was a fairly large contrast to a bed on the ground by the roadside. As he drifted off he thought of all the times he and Frodo had slept out of doors, from the grassy fields of the Shire to the barren, hostile ground of Mordor.  
  
He was woken the next morning by the sun shining through the curtains at the little window in the side of the hobbit hole. Sam climbed out of bed and pulled on his travelling clothes, and as he went to pick up his pack his eyes rested upon his old cloak from Lothlórien. He had brought it along as an afterthought and had forgotten all about it until he caught a glimpse of the silvery green fabric poking out from his pack. Hesitating for a second, he pulled it from his pack and held it up to his face. The fabric was soft, and as he inhaled he could still smell the faint aroma of the woods of Lórien. He smiled as he thought of the fair land of the Elves, and then he flung the cloak over his shoulders, straightened his back and strode out to the kitchen.  
  
"Good morning Sam," Pippin called from the table. He looked up and noticed that Sam was wearing his old cloak. A smile of realisation and understanding spread slowly over his face, and he then reached under the table and drew out a neatly folded package. Although the material was worn and faded with age it was unmistakable as his own elvish cloak. He shook it out and touched the fabric, remembering the fair land of the elves as if it was yesterday.  
  
"It looks like we had the same idea," he said. He then stood up from the table and mirrored Sam's earlier movements, fastening the cloak around his neck. Then he laughed and it seemed as if the years had been taken from him for just a moment, and he was once again the young Peregrin Took of twenty- eight years, about to depart on a long and dangerous journey with three of his friends.  
  
Then the laughter faded from the air, and he was once again old, but he stood up straighter than he had been before with his head held high, and in his eyes there was a new light, youthful and strong.  
  
"It has been quite some time since I have put this cloak on, Sam," he mused, stroking the fabric thoughtfully. "But I suddenly feel quite myself again, and much more energetic, if you know what I mean."  
  
"That's just how I felt, Master Pippin. I think that there is some kind of Elven magic woven into these cloaks that we didn't know about," Sam answered. They both stood in silence for a time.  
  
"We'd better go and find Merry," Pippin said eventually, breaking the dreamlike air in which their minds had been going back to the memory of Lóthlorien.  
  
"You're right," Sam agreed, shouldering his pack and striding out from the hobbit hole. Behind him Pippin securely locked and bolted the door.  
  
"Merry's with the ponies, just up the lane," Pippin said, gesturing with his left hand to where three ponies were tethered to a gatepost. Sam greeted William, who looked pleased to see him.  
  
"The farmer took your old pony in too, Sam. He's had a mighty good feed," Merry announced when he saw them approach. Then he noticed the cloaks that they wore around their shoulders and winked quickly, a twinkle appearing briefly in his eyes as he turned back to the ponies.  
  
Sam and Pippin smiled to each other when they saw that Merry had also put his elven cloak on. It had seemed right that they wore their old travelling gear for Sam's last journey.  
  
"It's been some time since I've ridden a pony," Pippin announced, looking somewhat doubtfully at the beast that was to bear him.  
  
"If I can manage it then so can you," Sam grunted, hoisting himself up into the saddle.  
  
"Aren't we too old for this?" Pippin asked as he too pulled himself up.  
  
"I dare say we are," Sam answered. "But it's the best transport we have." He turned William's head with a light tug of the reins and nudged him with his heels. Merry followed, and then came Pippin, and together they set off down the lane.  
  
They covered a good many miles that day, and soon they were at the cross- roads which joined onto the main road. Sam stopped his pony, unsure of which way to turn.  
  
"What's the matter Sam?" Merry asked, drawing to a halt beside him.  
  
"I don't know," Sam said slowly. "I was going to head for the Brandywine Bridge, but now I'm not sure if I want to go that way after all."  
  
Merry and Pippin waited patiently for him to finish his explanation.  
  
"I think it's because I've said goodbye to Bag End and to Hobbiton and everything already. I don't think I can go that way again. It wouldn't feel right."  
  
Merry and Pippin did not ask for any more. They understood. Sam was ready to start a new life, and Bag End held too many memories, good and bad. It had been hard for him to leave it all behind, and if he went back now it would rekindle all the hurt he had gone through the past year.  
  
"All right then. We shall turn left and make for Buckleberry Ferry," Pippin decided.  
  
"Thank you," Sam murmured, relived and at the same time sad he would not be travelling through the lands he had said farewell to.  
  
"Think nothing of it," Merry said, looking at Sam fondly. "We do love you, Samwise, and we will miss you an awful lot."  
  
"And I will miss you, of course. And I'll be sure not to forget you. I do not think I could, even if I tried."  
  
The three hobbits exchanged knowing glances, and then turned left down the road and began the first leg of their journey to Buckleberry Ferry.  
  
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	5. Chapter Five, Through the Woods and Over...

Chapter Five- Through the Woods and Over the Downs  
  
They journeyed for many days through the Shire. After crossing over the Brandywine they travelled across country, taking paths that had been made by generations of hobbit feet. They rarely met anyone once they had left the road, only an occasional farmer or adventurous tweenager exploring the countryside. They camped under the stars at night, and worn out from their journey, Sam slept deeply.  
  
Two days were spent in the woods of the Shire. The trees of Woody End were different to those of the Old Forest, they were younger and greener, and seemed more still and restful. The hobbits rarely spoke as they rode through the woods enjoying the atmosphere of quiet and peace.  
  
Sam felt more contented than he had for a long time. The sunlight that filtered through the thin canopy of leaves above was warming his back, and even the trees themselves seemed to be relaxing on this placid autumn day. Although he was sad that all this would be left behind he did not regret his decision. He knew that he did not have many more years to live, for although he was in good health he could feel his age creeping up on him.  
  
After the second day of their journey was spent the wood seemed to be thinning, and on the horizon rolling green hills could be seen.  
  
"The wood's coming to an end now," Pippin explained. "We'll soon be in Green Hill Country, and then on to Tuckborough."  
  
The next day was less pleasant than the previous. They were riding over hilly landscape and the cold breeze crept through their cloaks and chilled them to the bone.  
  
"Thank goodness for these cloaks," Pippin remarked, pulling his closer around him.  
  
"Me and Mister Frodo used to sing their praises," Sam remembered, recalling their time in Mordor. "They work wonders, do these cloaks. They stopped us being seen by those orcs many a time."  
  
"The elves know what they're doing. The Lady knew that they would come in useful," Merry said.  
  
The hobbits camped in the shadow of one of the hills, but the cold air still made them shiver and they were glad when the morning sun finally rose.  
  
"If we make good time we'll be in Tuckborough by the afternoon," Pippin said, shifting around uncomfortably in the saddle as Sam and Merry mounted their ponies.  
  
Sam felt apprehensive when Pippin spoke of Tuckborough. He had wanted to slip away unseen and unknown, but surely if he went to Tuckborough then tongues would start to wag and soon the whole Shire would know that he was leaving.  
  
Merry caught sight of Sam's unhappy face and smiled before he spoke.  
  
"Come, Sam, out with it."  
  
Sam voiced his concerns to his companions. They both pondered for a moment, and Sam could tell that they had been looking forward to some good ale and a feather bed for the night in one of the inns of Tuckborough.  
  
"Well, I don't suppose anyone will know who you are. They'll know Merry and me of course, but you haven't been out of Hobbiton for quite a while. If we stay quiet and don't draw attention to ourselves we'll be fine," Pippin suggested.  
  
Merry laughed after Pippin had spoken. "Remember the last time we tried not to draw attention to ourselves? Frodo ended up standing on a table and singing a ridiculous song because of your big mouth, Peregrin."  
  
Sam laughed at the memory of their fateful night at the Prancing Pony. To stop Pippin revealing his real name Frodo had promptly jumped up on a table and sung one of Bilbo's old songs, much to the amusement of the patrons at the Inn. 'So much for not drawing attention to ourselves,' he could remember saying as they left Bree the next day. Strider had not been best pleased. He smiled as he thought fondly of Strider, or King Elessar, sitting proudly on his throne at Minas Tirith.  
  
They rode on across the downs, and soon the land began to flatten and the village of Tuckborough could be seen nestled in the valley.  
  
They paused for a moment to look down on the village, and after gazing for a few moments Merry smiled to himself and nudged his pony on down the hill.  
  
"It's a soft bed for old bones tonight."  
  
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	6. Chapter Six, A Short Stay at the Inn

Authors Note: A little bit of a short chapter, sorry! As always, thanks to all my reviewers.  
  
Chapter 6- A Short Stay at the Inn  
  
They reached the village just as dusk was falling. Merry and Pippin made certain they shielded Sam from view as they proceeded down the road to an inn that Pippin knew of. They cast their hoods over their faces, but they didn't have to worry about being seen. All the hobbits of Tuckborough were safe inside their homes, for the evening air had a cold chill to it and there was a brisk breeze flitting around the street.  
  
After a good half hour of riding, they reached the inn. Pippin cautiously peered through the windows, but it was not crowded, so one by one the three hobbits passed through the door.  
  
"You go and sit in that corner over there," Merry whispered, nodding his head towards a small table at the far side of the room. "I'll get us something to drink and inquire about food and a room."  
  
Pippin ushered Sam over to the table and he sat down, glad for the comfortable chair that eased his back. He stretched his legs out under the table and leaned back, suddenly feeling very tired. Just then Merry appeared, balancing three mugs of ale.  
  
"Here you go," he said, putting one in front of Sam. "You'll forgive me for saying so, but you look like you need it."  
  
"You're right there," Sam answered, taking a deep swallow of the ale. The taste was comforting and familiar to him, and reminded him of happy evenings in the Green Dragon.  
  
Soon their food was bought over by a kindly hobbit who looked at them curiously before Merry bid him a polite 'Good evening'. The old hobbit had not seen travellers in his inn for many weeks, especially ones as old, and possible older, than him. As he walked away he shook his head slightly, trying to remember why he recognised their faces.  
  
"Mighty strange, that's what it is," he said to himself as he absentmindedly dried a plate. "We haven't had any strange characters in these parts since those ruffians and old Sharkey from years back."  
  
Meanwhile, the three hobbits were finishing their food in silence. They were all wearied from their journey and they still had many more miles to go. Merry and Pippin could feel the time when they had to say farewell to Sam creeping up on them, and they knew that the journey back would be sad and lonely without him.  
  
The old hobbit showed them to their room, still looking at them thoughtfully. Sam could hardly find the energy to get undressed, yet when he was lying in his bed he found that he was still wide-awake. He kept thinking of their night at the Prancing Pony, and of how the years had flown by.  
  
"An old hobbit, that's what you are now Samwise," he muttered to himself. He wished for a fleeting moment that he was young again, and that Frodo and Merry and Pippin were living happily with no hint of knowledge of the Ring, or of Sauron, and that Rosie was alive, and his old Gaffer was still living in Bagshot Row.  
  
"There's no use wishing Sam," he told himself sternly, pushing aside his thoughts. "For no one can turn back time, not even the Elves."  
  
And although he knew that he could not go back, a small part of him wished that he could. It was that small part of him that was still living in Bagshot Row with the Gaffer, gardening for Mister Frodo and just listening to old Bilbo's stories, not living them.  
  
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	7. Chapter Seven, the Letter is Found

Authors Note: A different kind of format today, from another characters POV. I thought it might liven things up a little. One more chapter to go after this one (sorry if I said nine chapters earlier, I was mistaken). Thanks to all my reviewers, you rock!  
  
Camellia: I met Billy at my local shopping mall. I had to queue for blimmin' ages but it was worth it! I got him to sign my 'art of the fellowship' book. Thanks for the support.  
  
Pearl Took: You are always so nice to me! I don't know if I deserve it (being a young writer full of spelling mistakes and with a lot of learning to do) but you encourage me!  
  
Silver Elf: Also, your praise is very much appreciated.  
  
Xena: Many thanks for your reviews!  
  
I would like to respond more, but time and space forbid it.  
  
Okay, here's the chapter! And for people who don't know, Fastred is Elanor's husband.  
  
Chapter Seven- The letter is found  
  
The hobbits woke early, rested from their slumber. They found their ponies saddled ready for them, and they took with them food provided by the kindly owner of the inn, who was still scratching his head and wondering who on earth they were as they rode off.  
  
They did not stay in any more inns because Sam still felt uneasy, so they instead slept out of doors in the shelter of dense bushes or clumps of trees. Their route was across country to Michel Delving, where they would meet the road and ride onwards to the Far Downs. They rode through Michel Delving without stopping, for Sam could not help the uncomfortable feeling that someone would recognise him and work out where he was going, and before he knew what was what the whole Shire would turn up to see him off. And he didn't want that. But what he did not know was that his own offspring knew him better than he thought they did, and someone had found his letter that very morning, much earlier than expected.  
  
*****  
  
"Da?" Elanor called as she knocked on the green front door of Bag End. "Da?" she called again when there was no answer. She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. Although her father showed no signs of becoming deaf, he was growing old, and Elanor imagined that he would be asleep in a comfortable armchair somewhere at the back of the house. She reached under the mat to get the spare key and let herself in. The residents of Hobbiton were trusting folk, 'Sometimes too trusting for their own good' she thought as she walked into the hall. She did not call again but walked into the parlor, then the front room and then the kitchen, but there were no signs of Sam. She furrowed her brow, pausing for a moment to think of where he could be. Bag End was a big place with many rooms lining the gently twisting corridor, and Sam could be anywhere. As she was thinking, something on the kitchen table caught her eye. An envelope made of thick parchment was propped up against the pepper pot.  
  
"What's this?" Elanor wondered, walking over to the table and picking up the envelope.  
  
'My Children' was written in Sam's sloping, messy script.  
  
Elanor hesitated for a moment, and then slit the envelope open with slightly shaking fingers. She could not think what it was, but she could tell that it was to do with her Da not being here. Something told her that it was serious.  
  
Four or five carefully folded pieces of paper fell out onto the table top. Elanor picked up the top one and began to read. It was dated six days back, and her name, as well as all her brothers' and sisters', were written on the top of the page.  
  
'Elanor, Frodo, Rose, Merry, Pippin, Goldilocks, Hamfast, Daisy, Primrose, Bilbo, Ruby, Robin and Tom:  
  
Firstly, I suppose you are wanting to know where I am. I have gone to be with my dear friend Frodo Baggins, who you will not remember because he sailed over the Sea a very long time ago, before most of you were born. That's where I've gone, to be with him in the Undying Lands. You see, I missed him something awful and I always meant to go and be with him eventually, and now that time has come. I am riding to the Grey Havens with my good friends Meriadoc and Peregrin.  
  
I hope you won't be sad that I have gone and not said goodbye, but you know me, I hate goodbyes. I just wanted to slip off, and I hope you understand. Please don't be sad for my sake, and remember that you still have each other.  
  
On the pages that follow are all the legal and proper papers that I sorted out a while ago, as well as a few instructions and goodbyes for you all.  
  
I love you all very much and I shall never forget you.  
  
Love your old Da, Samwise.'  
  
Elanor let the paper slip to the floor. She felt stunned. First her mother and now her Da. She couldn't imagine Bag End without him, and now she would never see him again. She had never got to say goodbye. She understood that he had not wanted that, but what she wouldn't give for one last hug and a few words. A tear slipped down her face, and she suddenly felt very lonely and hopeless. She stooped down and picked up the letter, scanning it again. The Grey Havens. A few days ride from here, she thought. An idea began to stir in her head. If she borrowed one of her Uncle Nibs' ponies and rode like the wind she could catch him up. A chance to say goodbye. But he'd be long gone by now, she thought hopelessly. She picked up the letter and scanned over it again. 'I am riding to the Grey Havens with my good friends Meriadoc and Peregrin.'  
  
"But the live in Buckland," she whispered to herself. Buckland...that was miles away. If Sam had gone their first then there was still hope. She checked the date at the top of the note. Yes, there was time.  
  
Then she stopped herself. Hadn't he said he didn't want a goodbye? But this wasn't a party or a procession of riders, only her. She wouldn't tell anyone, just creep off. But what about Fastred? He would wonder where she was.  
  
"I suppose I could tell Nibs. He wouldn't tell a soul if I asked him not to," she said to herself, fingering the paper thoughtfully.  
  
"I don't even know where the Grey Havens are!" she exclaimed out loud, jerking herself from her thoughts. "How on earth am I supposed to get there if I don't know the way?"  
  
Then she remembered the old study. It was packed full of ancient books, dusty papers and, most importantly, maps. She hurried off down the corridor and pushed open the heavy door. It creaked slightly because it had not been used much of late. She stepped inside and cast her eyes about the room. The reams of papers had been arranged on shelves by Sam, and she ran her finger along them muttering, "Maps...where are the maps..."  
  
She soon located the map of the Shire that had been drawn many years ago by Bilbo Baggins. She traced her finger along the road, from Hobbiton, across the Far Downs and along to the Sea. She stood very still, thinking hard for several moments.  
  
"Well, if I am to go I should go now," she said decisively. On impulse she picked up her skirts, rolled up the map and ran from the study in Bag End, down the lane towards the Cottons' farm. She hurried through the yard, scattering chickens and turning the heads of the farm hands who were busy forking hay into the cow sheds. She stepped up to the old farmhouse door and rapped on it with her knuckles. Nibs Cotton, her uncle, answered the door after a few moments. He was too old now to do much about the farm, so he employed some of the young hobbit lads from the village to do all the hard farm work for him. He gave Elanor a warm smile and invited her in at once.  
  
"Well, if it isn't young Elanor! It's been a while since I've seen you in these parts, Miss," he said, as he held the door open for her.  
  
"I was going up to Bag End to do some cleaning for Da," she said. "And it's about him that I'm here."  
  
"Oh yes?" Nibs questioned turning and looking her in the eye. "I've not seen him about much recently, as it happens," he said, looking thoughtful for a moment.  
  
"Well, and this is strictly between you and me," Elanor said pointedly, "he's left."  
  
"Left? Where's a hobbit of his age going to?" Nibs asked, looking surprised.  
  
"He's gone to be with Mister Frodo. Sailing over the Sea," Elanor replied.  
  
"The Sea? Blimey! A hobbit like Sam in a boat?" Nibs gasped, putting his hand to his forehead.  
  
Elanor smiled; she couldn't imagine her Da in a boat either.  
  
"The thing is, he didn't say goodbye. And I'm going after him. I'd like to ask a favor of you," Elanor continued.  
  
"Just name it. I'm not busy," Nibs said, slightly overwhelmed at the new information.  
  
"Well, I'll need to borrow a pony, for a week at the most. I'm leaving today as soon as I can."  
  
"Of course, one of the lads will get one for you right away," Nibs replied.  
  
"And I'll have to leave a message with you for Fastred. He'll be wondering where I am when I don't go back tomorrow," Elanor carried on.  
  
"Of course," Nibs said again. "Of course, I'll remember. Now, you go and find that pony. Tom will show you which."  
  
"Thank you so much!" Elanor said, giving him a quick hug. "And please, not a word to anyone but Fastred. I'll tell when my Da's safely off."  
  
Nibs tapped the side of his nose with his finger. "Anything you say Miss."  
  
Elanor smiled again and with a call of, 'Thank you!' she ran from the farmhouse to the stables, where one of the farm hands lead out a little black pony, exactly the right height for her.  
  
"This is Lily," he said. "She'll keep you well." He deftly flung a saddle on her back and handed Elanor the reins. Elanor called out her thanks as she led the pony back up the road to Bag End. She had not ridden for a long time, the last time being when she was much younger and staying at the Cottons' farm. Her brothers had tried to teach her how to ride, but she only learnt the basics, for she had fallen off and grazed her knee and vowed never to sit on a pony again. She firmly pushed that thought from her mind, it was no good to be afraid at a time like this.  
  
"Just like riding a bicycle, they said," Elanor mumbled to herself as she tried to recall all she knew about ponies. "Well, I don't have a bicycle and I can't ride one neither, but hopefully I'll be all right."  
  
When she reached the gate, she flung the reins over the gatepost and rushed inside to pack some food and warm clothes. There was not much in the larder, but she managed to scrape together enough supplies for a few days. Sam had obviously taken most of the food for his journey. After she had taken a rug from one of the bedrooms and an old travelling cloak from a wardrobe she was ready to go. She tied her bag to the back of the saddle, mounted her pony and trotted off down the lane, a little unsteady at first but soon getting used to the jogging motion.  
  
"I'd better hurry if I'm going to catch him," she thought, nudging her pony into a rocking canter. She swayed a little and grabbed hold of the saddle, but her pony was a clever little thing and slowed down when she lost her balance.  
  
As she rode she had the sudden uneasy thought that she would miss him, and he would be gone before she got there. Then she remembered that her father was much older than she was, and he probably would not be going any faster than a walk.  
  
She had soon turned out of Hobbiton and was riding through Bywater. Hobbit heads turned as they saw Elanor Gamgee cantering down the road on a pony, and some called out to her, but she did not call back.  
  
She bit her lip and bent down low over the saddle, urging her pony to go faster. She was determined that she would get to say farewell to her Da, and she would ride all night if she had to. 


	8. Chapter Eight, The Final Farewell

Authors Note: Okay, it's the last chapter and it took me forever (or it felt like that) to get right! The ending was so, so hard, and I decided to keep the meeting short and sweet. I hope it's okay.  
  
I'd just like to say thanks to anyone who has reviewed this story. It means an awful lot to me. Sorry if I annoyed any purists by changing the bit about Elanor getting the book from Sam. It was intentional. Thanks to lizmybit for pointing it out.  
  
*Shameless plug time* If you like this, perhaps you'd like to check out some of my other work? I have all sorts!  
  
Thanks again for the support,  
  
Love Daisy.  
  
Chapter Eight- The Final Farewell  
  
Sam had lost count of how many days he had been journeying, but he knew that he was not far from the Tower Hills of the Grey Havens. He dimly recalled coming here with Frodo, and could picture the grand white ship and the sounds of the Sea.  
  
During the last leg of their journey Merry and Pippin had grown silent, rarely speaking. They knew that the parting would be painful, and their hearts felt heavy as every step brought them closer to the place where Sam would leave them.  
  
At last the white towers came into view, and Sam's heart leapt at the sight of them. Past those towers was the land where Mister Frodo was waiting for him, and he would be seeing him again. But Merry and Pippin felt downhearted at the sight of the towers, and although they were happy for Sam, they felt sorry for themselves because they knew that they would be leaving their friend forever.  
  
"Come," Sam said suddenly. "Ride beside me."  
  
So Merry and Pippin rode on either side of Sam, and this encouraged him, for he did not want to say goodbye to his two friends either, and he wished that they could come with him.  
  
"But they can't. They're not Elves nor Ring Bearers neither. They won't be allowed," he thought to himself sadly.  
  
And so they rode to the gates of the Grey Havens and were greeted by Círdan the Shipwright, his beard as long and his eyes as keen as they had been when they last saw him. A little boat, smaller but no less beautiful that the one Frodo travelled in, was waiting in the water.  
  
"All is ready for your departure, Master Samwise," he said, bowing to them.  
  
Then it dawned on Merry and Pippin that their friend really was leaving, and it was time to say goodbye. They wept, with sadness but also happiness that Sam was going to see Frodo again and live in peace at last.  
  
Sam embraced them both and then said, "Do you remember what old Gandalf said to us when Mister Frodo was leaving? 'I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are evil'? Well, now I say it to you my dear friends. For this is it, and old Samwise Gamgee is sailing over the Sea."  
  
He embraced them tightly again, and then turned his back and followed Círdan to the quay where the white ship was waiting for him. As he was boarding the boat a faint cry suddenly came from the top of the Downs. Merry and Pippin turned their heads in surprise and shielded their eyes against the evening sunlight. On top of the hill was a figure riding a black pony. Its cries were just audible, and as it went into a furious gallop down the side of the hill it could be heard calling, "Oh stop! Please wait, don't go yet!"  
  
As it came closer, Merry and Pippin could see that it was a hobbit rider, but the hood was cast over his or her face so it was not possible to see who it was. Sam had also seen the rider, and had stepped from the boat in astonishment.  
  
The rider drew level with Merry and Pippin and scrambled from its pony in haste.  
  
"Oh, where's my Da? Please don't say he's gone, please!" It was a female voice, and the words were punctuated by sobs. She turned her head upwards to look pleadingly at Merry and Pippin, and they saw that it was Elanor Gamgee, her eyes wide, hair disheveled and her face streaked with tears.  
  
"Elanor!" Merry said in surprise. "Whatever are you doing here?"  
  
"Where's my Da? Have I missed him?" She burbled frantically, ignoring Merry's question. She looked about her, and her eyes first rested on the white ship, then the Shipwright and then lastly on her old Da, standing on the quay staring at her in disbelief.  
  
"Oh Da!" she cried, her voice choked with tears.  
  
Sam did not speak, he only held out his arms. She ran to him and they hugged tightly. Sam's eyes glistened with tears as he looked down at his daughter's face.  
  
"Elanor? How did you get here?" He asked, holding her at arms length and looking at her face.  
  
"I'm sorry Da. I know you didn't want a goodbye, but I couldn't let you go without at least trying. I got your letter two days ago, and I borrowed one of Uncle Nibs' ponies and rode like the wind," she confessed, looking down at the floor.  
  
"I'm mighty glad you did," Sam said, hugging her again. "You're lucky I went to Buckland before I came here, otherwise you'd have missed me. I know I said I didn't want a goodbye, but now you're here I think I was wrong. A letter can't make up for a proper farewell."  
  
Elanor did not speak, she was so relived that she had caught him in time.  
  
"But now I must go," Sam said, pulling out of the embrace. "The ship is waiting for me."  
  
Elanor swallowed hard. She did not want him to leave, but she knew that he had made up his mind, and nothing she had to say could change it.  
  
"Now Elanor. I explained this in my letter but I think I'd rather ask you to your face," he said to her, straightening up from their hug. "Do you know my book? Well, it's our book really. Mister Frodo's and Bilbo's and mine. And now I'm passing it on to you. You have always had a way with words and I know I can count on you to keep it well. "  
  
"You know you can Da," Elanor replied. "I'll make sure everything is how you would want."  
  
"Good girl," Sam said, smiling at her. "You go back with Merry and Pippin. They'll look after you. Take care." He kissed her on the cheek, and then turned and walked back towards the boat.  
  
Elanor looked after him, tears running down her face. Merry and Pippin came and stood beside her, and they slipped their hands into hers as Sam boarded the ship. Sam turned and looked upon their faces, smiling through his tears.  
  
"I'll never forget you," Elanor mouthed quietly, looking upon her father one last time.  
  
"None of us will," Merry added softly.  
  
"Farewell, Samwise the brave," Pippin added, raising his hand in parting.  
  
They stood on the hill and watched as the boat left the quay and sailed out onto the Sea. They watched as it sailed toward the horizon, slowly getting smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared. They stood for a long time together, until it began to grow dark. Then they turned their backs to the Sea and rode quietly back to the Shire. Elanor was glad she did not have to ride back alone, and Merry and Pippin were also glad, for they still had each other.  
  
As the boat sailed out onto the Sea, Sam looked back at the lands he had left and at the three lonely figures standing on the hilltop. When they had become nothing but a pin prick on the green hills of the Shire he turned his head and did not look back again. Instead, he looked ahead and stared over the white-topped waves and Sea mist, listening to the call of the gulls and the soft roaring of the waves.  
  
After he had been in the boat for a long while, he fancied that he heard beautiful singing, fairer than he had ever heard before. Sam stood and looked forward, and he saw the white shores and green hills of the fair land that he was sailing to. Then he could see a tiny wooden jetty and a little figure standing at the end.  
  
And so for the first time in many, many years he saw Frodo, with his cloak wrapped around his shoulders and the breeze tousling his hair as he looked out over the Sea, waiting for Sam to arrive. Sam felt as if they had never been apart, and his heart leapt and his face broke out into a grin as he ran from the boat up the wooden jetty. As he ran he felt the years lift from his shoulders and forgot his sadness and troubles. Then he was there, and he flew into the arms of his dear Master Frodo.  
  
"Oh Frodo, it's you, it's really you. It's been too long," Sam choked, pulling back and looking at Frodo through eyes blurred with tears.  
  
"Yes it has, dear Samwise. I had begun to fear that you would not come," Frodo replied, his blue eyes looking deep into Sam's.  
  
"I would never leave you. I promised I would not forget you, and I always keep my word." Sam said sincerely.  
  
Then they both laughed and hugged fiercely, and Sam laid his head on Frodo's shoulder and wept, not in sadness but in joy, for at last he had Frodo back, and he would never leave him again.  
  
*  
  
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THE END  
  
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* 


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